


You're in.

by soliduck



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, Not Beta Read, Possibly Pre-Slash, Stiles enjoys trolling Derek, Tumblr Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliduck/pseuds/soliduck
Summary: “Dude, do not touch me. Gross. I hope you have hand sanitizer.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first fanfic. I couldn't stop laughing while thinking about this, so I had to write it.

So, Derek is easily the best tracker out of all the wolves. He even seems to be able to track cars by scent, some of the time, which Stiles finds very impressive. This ability becomes super important when some hunters carjacked Stiles and it had only taken the pack a few hours to locate him. When Stiles asks Derek how he manages this and if he could teach the other wolves, Derek says it has to do with the fact that he is a born werewolf, a former alpha and someone who has a lot of experience working on cars. Stiles squints at this internally, but ultimately lets it go. He’s picking his battles these days, and Scott had told him that Derek had explained the technique to them but that “only Derek could pull it off.”

Fast forward a few months. There are more hunters in town and everyone is taking turns staking out the motel they are staying at. Derek tried to subtly arrange it so that he and Stiles wouldn’t be paired together, but Stiles saw through this immediately (because Derek may be god tier stubble, he is shit tier subtle) and arranged it so that they would be, mostly for amusement. So, they are staking it out and a whole extra car of hunters that they did not know about pulls in and heads into the motel. This is bad. Derek doesn’t want to split up, so if the new hunters leave, which they could do at any moment, they will have to decide between following them or staying at the motel. Stiles watches Dereks face go from concerned, to uncertain, to horror for a brief instant and then finally settle into his usual grim stoic acceptance. With zero expectation that it will actually work, Derek gathers every shred of authority and intimidation that he has left and orders Stiles to stay in the car, and then immediately gets out and starts slinking through the shadows towards the motel. Stiles immediately spills out of the car, and when his whisper shouts of “What the fuck Derek?!”, “Come back here!” are ignored he follows Derek to where he is sidling up to the SUV that belongs to the second group of hunters. Stiles prides himself on being able to guess what people are going to do and why, and his first thought is “Derek has gone insane and is going to attack the hunters alone.”, but that is quickly replaced with “Derek is going to sabotage their car so they can’t leave.” Stiles is a little impressed with the cunning of his imaginary Derek, and in the few seconds it takes to catch up, he’s got an argument about why they shouldn’t let the hunters know that the pack is aware of their presence. His mouth is open and he is about to start arguing when Derek stands up, unzips and proceeds to start peeing on the back tire of the hunter’s car. Stiles is… confused is not a strong enough word; bewildered is a distant memory, this is straight up bamboozled territory. All Stiles can do is crouch there in stunned silence for the twenty seconds it takes for Derek to finish his business, zip himself back up and then turn to Stiles. When Stiles doesn’t immediately react Derek reaches out towards him like he is going to manhandle Stiles back to the car, which is enough to snap Stiles out of the continuous stream of “whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck”. He flails backwards and almost falls on his ass, and looks at Derek with a mix of horror and betrayal and whispers, “Dude, do not touch me. Gross. I hope you have hand sanitizer.” Derek rolls his eyes, and they sneak back across the parking lot without any incident. By the time they are settled back into the car and have determined that Derek does not in fact have anything to clean his hands with, Stiles is sure that he knows what is going on, but he feels like tormenting Derek a little bit. He turns in his seat so he is facing Derek and squints speculatively at him and asks, “So… is this a dominance thing?” 

Derek lets out a sharp breath through his nose and very nearly facepalms before he catches himself and goes back to wiping his hands on his jeans. Without looking at Stiles, he haltingly mutters out, “No, this is how I can track cars. If I… mark… them, then there is a trail to follow.” 

The fact that Derek is making a face that Stiles hasn’t seen in years, one of utter defeat and resignation, softens Stiles’ heart and makes him think that honesty is the best approach here. “I mean, it’s kinda gross, and I reserve the right to make fun of you about it a little bit from time to time but I think it’s actually pretty smart. You’ve got to know I’m a pragmatic guy at heart, so if it works… it works.” Derek’s response to this reassurance is only to close his eyes and grip the steering wheel tightly, visibly bracing himself for something. Stiles flicks his eyes over Derek, trying to figure out what is going on, and then goes absolutely still as he realizes four things:

1\. Derek tracked Stiles’ jeep when Stiles got carjacked.

2\. Derek peed on Stiles’ jeep.

3\. There is no way that Derek could have anticipated that he would get kidnapped when he did.

4\. Derek must have been secretly peeing on his Jeep on a regular basis, for months; possibly years.

His mind is instantly a bonfire of outrage. He points accusingly at Derek, and the torrent of betrayed invective he wants to spill into the small space between them gets caught in his throat, so all he can do is sputter like a lit fuse. By the time Stiles has collected himself, Derek is leaning forward with his head resting on the steering wheel between his hands.


End file.
